I Am
by Rainfelt aka Phoe-chan
Summary: AU. Sou/Mi. Batt/Kaoru. DarkFic. Parts 1-7 Rewritten. Corruption drives them all for different reasons and binds them in a tangled web of murder, betrayal, lust, and regret. Misao and Kaoru will stop at nothing to take down the man they have been tracking for years. However, to do so, both must accept means of help from sources they do not want.
1. Prologue

**AN**: Edited October 12th, 2012. I have majorly revamped this story in hopes to some day complete it. I started it when I was still in high school. Badly written, atrocious grammar, and yet the ideas and imagination that I am known for today were there and I just can't find it in me to leave it abandoned. Not after I reread it the other day and went "I can't remember what I was going to do with this, _but I know what I can do with it** now**." _Bear with me.

This story will involve the pairings of Soujiro and Misao, as well as Battousai and Kaoru. There is _serious_ character mutilation to fit the setting. This is my pathetic attempt at a darkfic that I failed at writing a decade ago. You have been warned.

Please note this story only loosely follows what I had originally. If you have an amazing memory then you will want to reread it again in its entirety as much as changed. I also have replaced these chapters without a beta read, so there are likely mistakes. This will not be the pinnacle of my writing, but it will still be leaps and bounds better than what I had. If you notice anything glaring, drop me a PM and I'll be glad to fix it. The chapters start out short, as I wrote short chapters back then. When I start adding the new chapters, they will be remarkably longer.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own RK or the characters.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Prologue_

* * *

The night was cold and bitter. Clouds wafted over the placid, pale moon that bared its teeth into the black of winter. A chilling drizzle kissed the outstretched limbs of trees, robbed of their leaves by the recurring midnight frost. Dim street lamps illuminated the streets blanketed in a dangerous, thin layer of ice. The cold, icy air ripped away all sense of life. The plants were brittle with death and the living numbed with cold. The advisory on the radio warned to stay off the roads and inside where it was warm. Many had listened.

However, not all of those greeted the near-arctic chill with a need to burrow in heat and distaste for the cold. She walked down the streets in clothes fit only for a cool autumn's night. Chapped lips pulled into a cold smile as the wind licked at her skin. She could no longer feel her face, and that only encouraged the grin stretched across pale skin, and it certainly held no warmth.

She moved across the ice as if it did not exist, her motions fluid and well-practiced. Sharp green eyes watched the world around her behind tinted amber glasses that did no more for her vision than shield it from the day. The denim of her jacket and jeans did nothing to combat the chill around her, and yet she moved on, walking as if it were a warm, spring day.

Those who dared to be in the wee hours of the morning took notice of her and how out of place and foolish she seemed. Only a trained eye would be able to pick up on something more there, that she was no ordinary creature. To them she was but a child, young and idiotic as she moved across the otherwise barren streets, a purpose in her stride matched only by her shadow that moved with her.

She was super-human. Darkness and cold only aided her. The numbing she felt was the foundation for her fortitude. The world around her recognized her for what she was, and pitied humanity for not understanding as well.

Reaching up, she brushed long black bangs from her face, and her braid whipped behind her as the wind picked up, calling to her.

She would answer. She always did.

* * *

_Question. Who am I? My name? I used to have a name. My story? It can be whatever I say it is. My cause? At one point I thought it was to give the world hope. I lost that ideal a long time ago. They don't care anymore. I fight for myself._

_I am alone._

_I'm not even sure how or when this game began. Actually, I am sure of when it began for **me.** But that is not the point. People thought we were rising when really we were falling. Falling down, down, down into a pit that we'll never be able to climb out of to see the light again. From then on the balance of power shifted toward the wrong people. Tentacles of corruption sprung out and devoured everything around it. And nothing was the same. Now everything in this damnable place is overrun with terrorists, thugs, and mafia leaders. Let's not get started on the corrupt government, too. If you're not part of the above, you do best to hide and keep your head down. You do what you're told, when you're told, and no questions asked. Or you'll be shot between the eyes on the spot._

_And no one will care._

_I often ask myself a question I think I'll never know the answer to._

_Why do I do this?_

_But I already do know the answer. I just don't want to admit it.  
_

* * *

They had been trailing her for some time now. She was not sure who, but whomever it was...they were good. The only reason she knew they were there was that unsettling sense she had grown to trust over the years of honing her skills. It was this soft, nagging feeling. Nothing more, nothing less, but it spoke volumes. It also bothered her, because few had trailed her so well that nothing else stood out.

They were dangerous.

She stepped into a local bar, her fingers pressed hard against the frigid metal of the door. Heat hit her face like a fire's burn, and with it came the stench of cigarettes, alcohol and sweat. The onslaught should have bothered her.

But it did not.

She slithered in like the night itself, her long braid swaying gently as she took seat at the bar. Green eyes perused the crowd, none of them more than scum itself. Her lips almost quirked up. She fit right in.

The bartender approached, the dingy white of his cloth polishing a glass that she was not quite sure looked clean. She regarded him only briefly over yellow lenses before she murmured in a voice just a touch throaty, "Scotch."

The glass was there in the short span of time it took for the huge digital clock above him to turn from 1:59 to 2:00. No one noticed but her.

And then she felt him. Just a tiny prickle that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention. Her stealthy friend had arrived. She was not so sure his motives for following her into a very unpopulated bar. It seemed like an unwise move on his part. Although he sat concealed in a dark corner, it took little casual observation to pinpoint who it was. It helped that she had taken a mental picture of who was in when she arrived.

He was young. Perhaps around her age. Not much larger in build, either. She suspected he was a quick bastard by that observation alone. And he was smiling. Into nothing. It was creepy. So creepy that she suddenly did not feel like finishing her drink in any enjoyable fashion. She chugged it back, ignoring the burn and slapped her money down on the bartender.

He was hot on her trail the moment she was back on the street. Her lip curled in annoyance and frustration, and she deeply suspected he was much closer this time. With fluidity that suggested the motion was premeditated and not erratic, she moved into a shadowed alleyway, watching movement in the shadows as rats scurried.

She counted to five and moved. Her own surprise registered on her face briefly when she found him pinned to the wall by her own hands. He had not struggled, and that bothered her greatly. She recovered quickly, her expression snapping back into a fierce glare.

"_Why _are you following me?" She hissed, her breath curling around his jaw in foggy wisps. Now this close, she could see how blue his eyes were, how his bangs shadowed them from the moonlight, how his skin seemed as fair as hers. How almost... pretty he looked. It was disgusting, and she bit back a sneer.

To her ire and agitation, he simply smiled at her, bright blue eyes holding far less emotion than they should, which was unnerving. "I am not trailing _you_, per se. I am trailing _them._"

Her heart skipped a beat at the dawning realization of two things. Two very different and important things. The sharp crack of a gun firing and the dust that sprayed as the bullet hit the wall beside them made her curse under her breath. She released her captive and moved away, her braid whipping behind her as she spun. She was angry. Angry, because she had thought what she had been feeling was _him. _Angry, because she realized now that she had not felt _him_ at all.

Her gun was in her hand with speed from years of _this_ kind of life. Jade colored eyes narrowed into slits as she skimmed the rooftops in cold calculation. She needed only a moment, a tiny chance of opportunity. She saw movement and fired.

The man in black stumbled out of his half-hidden spot atop the roof, and she did not hesitate to fire again, watching him collapse without a concern for his well-being. Movement at the corner of her peripheral vision made her whip her head around, gun following, but to her surprise the man jerks violent before slumping down. Behind him stands the guy she had cornered.

_How had he gotten up there that fast? And when?_

Her eyes were wide, the whites of them visible in the pale moonlight as she stared at him. Angry, because she did not know how he had done what he did; angry because he helped her, protected her.

Angry that she had _let him._

She stared at him, her frustration rolling off of her in near deadly waves. He regarded her with that same smile, seemingly unconcerned that her rage was directed at him. After a moment of watching her with distant curiosity he waved and melted back into the shadows.

She ran her tongue over her teeth before jerkily holstering her weapon, trying to reign in her temper.

Some few minutes later found her on the roof, though it had been a fruitless effort. The bodies had no I.D. Chapped lips pressed into a tight line. She had enemies, many, but she knew not from whom this attack had been directed. Irritated, her night thoroughly ruined, she jumped off the ladder of the fire escape, feet landing on the ice like it was not there. Cold fingers shoved into the pockets of her jacket and she whirled on foot, stalking back onto the main street.

Just another night for the girl once known as Makimachi Misao.

She really hated life.

_End Prologue_

* * *

_-Phoe-chan _


	2. Chapter 1: Bittersweet

**Edited:** October 12th, 2012.**  
**

**Warnings: **Language, OOCness. Seriously, I really mess with the characters in this. Read it anyway.**  
**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I just mess with their personalities to infuriate the masses.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 1: Bittersweet_

* * *

Misao stepped into her dimly lit apartment, the door shutting firmly behind her. She hissed as her tinted shades immediately began to fog up from the suddenly change of environment. Tearing them from her face with a vengeance, she threw them at the wall, where they bounced off chipping paint and hit the floor. The shadow beside the offended pair of glasses regarded them lightly before tilting its head at her.

"You're late," The feminine voice commented idly.

"Didn't know I had a curfew," Misao snapped back, her movements conveying her anger and irritation as she flung herself onto a chair and attacked the laces of her boots. "What do you want, Kaoru?" She spat the words out, and was not ashamed of how they sounded, even if the other was not deserving of such treatment.

Kaoru seemed to not mind, though she did raise a delicate brow. Pushing forward, she stepped out of the shadows, her arms across her chest. "You are... unusually tense tonight." The word was an understatement. They both knew it, and ignored the fact. The unasked question of why hung in the air.

Misao pursed her lips into a tight line, ignoring the burn as the abused flesh pressed against each other. Successfully pulling one boot off her foot, she finally scowled. "I got jumped."

Kaoru tilted her head. She looked fine, so it could not have been serious. "And?"

Misao twitched, yanking her other shoe off with such volatility that Kaoru feared she might break her own ankle. "Some freak was following me. He was good. I had no clue."

"He attacked you?"

"No. He _helped_ me."

Kaoru gave pause to this, painted lips parted as she considered that tidbit of information. "Odd."

"No shit, Sherlock," Misao spat irritably, rubbing her temples.

"I am not your enemy here," Kaoru growled back, tiring of her behavior. It was clear this was not the first time they had had this sort of night. "I never have been. So stop treating me like I'm the enemy. I've got your back and have had it since Shinom-"

"Do not _ever _say his name around me, Kaoru!" Misao barked, venom dripping from her lips. Her pupils were tiny black dots against a backdrop of angry green, staring down Kaoru like she might draw her weapon. The other woman stared back, realizing her mistake but not backing down. They both had such a trait in common.

After several drawn out seconds of staring, Misao finally backed off, slouching in her chair and running a hand through her bangs. With a frustrated sigh, she inquired, "What do you want, Kaoru?"

"Came to check up on you," The words were terse, but not as clipped as they had been after past arguments.

Misao scrunched her nose up, hand still pressed against her forehead. "Since when do you care?"

"Well, you still owe me fifty bucks, for starters."

She could feel the beginnings of a smirk threatening to tug at her lips as she cracked one eye open to look over at her friend. As much as they fueled each other's tempers, Misao could admit to herself she would be lost with Kaoru. Even if she would not admit it to anyone else. "Why are you _really_ here, Kaoru?"

"Mmm..." The older woman moved across the small apartment into the kitchen area. The old fridge gurgled as she opened the door, eyes surveying the almost-barren contents. A cheap beer was her choice and she popped the cap on the corner of the counter. Misao did not seem to care about that fact, either. "I am in."

Green eyes opened fully to rest on her. "It is him, isn't it."

Kaoru's smile held no mirth. "Yukishiro has made himself a powerful man in recent years. Nothing like the little whelp you encountered so long ago."

"Think he's working under a higher power?"

Kaoru laughed softly, and it was hollow. "No... he has become the higher power. There are others equal to him, but he is not working under anyone. That, I promise you."

Misao tilted her head, her face not betraying her thoughts. Her eyes narrowed in calculation, regarding her friend. "How easy was it for you to get in?"

"Fairly," Kaoru replied, and there was a nasty bite as she added, "It seems I live up to his standards."

Misao scowled, "That's sick."

"Yeah, well, I've always done the dirty work."

The younger woman could not help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped her. It was true, in some regard. She and Kaoru had worked together forever and Kaoru's specialty had always been intelligence gathering and infiltration. From blending in with crowds to gaining trust, she could do it.

And she would do it by any means necessary.

"Just don't fuck him, all right? That's just _wrong._"

Kaoru smirked, but said nothing on the matter. The precarious situation she was in was not something to joke about, but here both of them were doing so. Sanity was not something either woman had in surplus. Such things like rationale withered under the heat of Misao's thirst for blood, and Kaoru's undying devotion to eradicating what she deemed evil. And there were many, many evils in this world.

The sound of glass hitting glass in the trash can told Misao that her partner had finished her beer. "I need to go before I am missed. The closer I get to the inner web, the less frequent I will be able to meet up with you. I will find other ways to get you the information, though. That, I promise you."

Misao nodded in understanding as Kaoru picked up her coat off the ragged couch and slipped it on. "Oh, and I overheard a small bit of information that you should know."

There was concern laced in Kaoru's voice, and Misao took attention to it, looking at her friend. Pink lips pursed together before she murmured, "I heard the words 'Byakko Warehouse Incident.'"

Misao's blood froze, her eyes glazing over at the words. Kaoru regarded her quietly before glancing at her watch. She did not want to leave at this point, but if she did not, both women would be in jeopardy. "Be careful and stay low. They might be looking for you." Her words were soft, a mere whisper in the otherwise silent apartment. And then the door clicked shut behind her.

Slender fingers with short, chipped nails pressed to her chapped lips as her stomach churned at such words. Heat and anger rolled through her, making her insides twist painfully. Her eyes lifted to a dusty frame sitting on an otherwise barren shelf. In the pale light, she could just make out the two figures in it, one much taller than the other. Regret and despair replaced the anger and she tore her eyes away and closed them painfully, a choked noise escaping her as she struggled to contain the emotions that were rolling inside.

_'Aoshi... it should have been me who died that night.'_

Images flashed behind her eyelids, the sound of gunshots echoed in the back of her mind. His tall form urging her along. She could remember the pain, smell the tang of the blood from her wounds, and the fear that she was going to die.

She could hear his voice, so calm despite the situation; could see his face set into a grim mask that did not betray the worry she knew lay beneath that mask.

She could still hear her own screams as he went down under the hail of gunfire that should have been meant for her.

The image of his body collapsing on the roof as she was taken away by the truck he had thrown her on as it went by was forever grained into her mind.

_Aoshi._

Years of practice at pushing the painful memories back let her return to the presence, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling more tired than she had in months. With minimal effort she pulled her jacket from her body, her anger gone and her chest feeling hollow. She needed sleep. Needed to forget. Needed... _him._

Slowly, she pulled her defenses back together and began to peel her clothes from her body, moving in the general direction of her bathroom.

She did not see the shadow that melted past her frost-ringed window, or the ghost of a smile that accompanied it.

* * *

_Phoe-chan_


	3. Chapter 2: A Meeting of Sorts

**AN:** Rewritten on October 12th, 2012.

**Warnings: Language, violence.  
**

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 2 :: A Meeting of Sorts_

* * *

Steam slowly filled the tiny bathroom, fogging over the mirror and clinging to the porcelain of the sink and toilet as Misao sunk into the water of her bathtub. Her hair spilled around her from where she had undone the braid. She reached for a lock, staring at it idly as she relaxed against the tub. She pondered on why she had not cut it.

_"Don't cut it. It looks good long."_

That would be why. He had asked her not to. She sighed softly and let go of the lock, knowing she would never cut it. This was not helping her get back on track, either.

The heat from the water did much for her tightly wound body, until finally she felt herself enveloped in a blanket of almost-relaxation. Instead of focusing on the past, she did well to consider just what she knew now about Yukishiro Enishi, and just what it might take to take him out of the game permanently.

* * *

He was a man of power. And as a man of power, he enjoyed flaunting it. Kaoru hid her disgust behind a mask of calm as she checked in with security. The glittering mansion behind the guard in front of her was a testament to this fact. He was so _blatant _about who he was. She wondered why it had taken it this long to confirm what she and Misao already suspected.

She knew why, though. He was powerful _and_ careful. Most of his dirty work he did through connections and partners. Tracing it back to him had been the hard part. He hid behind the facade of a successful entrepreneur. Though, she supposed that was what he was in his own right.

Idly, she noted it was taking a long time to get through security. The property seemed to be alive, and she could only wonder just what had happened in the short hour she had been gone. She saw a troop of guards trot by and her eyes narrowed.

Once inside, she was surprised to find him out in the open. Before, she had just been catching glances at him, not deep in enough to risk much more. This caught her off guard, and she tilted her head as he spoke irritably to the men before him. He was donned in a black night robe that contrasted the strange white of his hair. He had apparently been disturbed from his slumber. It helped to explain why the mansion did not seem to be sleeping.

"And I want a full sweep of the perimeter by two sets of teams. I want him _found._" Despite his irritation, his voice had a lilt that she had not expected. The men dispersed after a few more orders from him, leaving him standing there. He was not alone, of course. Guards and personnel were everywhere. But he was the most unguarded she had ever seen.

And considering what she suspected had happened just moments before she walked through the door, she wondered about that. She did not doubt he could defend himself, but now she was curious as to _how well._ Part of her really wished to try him. She shoved that part down and reminded herself of her job.

Enishi leveled his gaze on her and tilted his head as if noticing her for the first time, and likely it was the truth. She stood there, her body in a posture that indicated respect and humility. She had learned quickly it was what he liked. Now, under his scrutiny, she let her acting skills fall into work. Just the right measure of confidence in herself and respect and awe for the man who stood before her.

"What is your name?" His voice was smooth like velvet, and yet it slithered over her like scales. She lifted her eyes to meet his and offered a slight smile, pretending to be pleased with his attention.

"Hawatari Hikaru." It was an identity that had taken her months to set up, exhausting all of her resources and contacts. She had it down to what days she had missed in school for being out with the flu.

"You are new," He commented idly, his eyes measuring her.

"Two weeks, my Lord."

A smile pulled at his lips. "I see. You appeared to have returned just after all of the fuss tonight."

Ah, an opportunity. Her eyes skimmed the area, ignoring the way he was staring at her. "What happened, my Lord?"

Enishi's smile was hard, and he flashed her his teeth. "Someone wishes to hunt the white tiger for his pelt."

"It is good that you are unharmed," She commented, forcing false sincerity into her words. "How many?"

The man paused, putting a finger to his lip in thought. "Just one."

Kaoru's eyes narrowed and his next words sent a chill down her back.

"Battousai works alone."

* * *

Misao sighed, her legs crossed and her feet propped on the edge of the old tub. She had sunk as deep as she could into her watery blanket and inhaled the steam that still littered the room. Her soft exhale covered the very slight sound of the door opening in the living room.

She had not thought to lock it after Kaoru left. Too lost in painful memories and the despair they wrought. The steam and light from under the door to the bathroom gave away her location easily enough, and the first the three intruders moved in, motioning for the second to follow. The third stayed behind, gun drawn and ready to aid if needed.

His death was quick and silent, neck snapping in an unnatural angle that left the two before him none the wiser as they approached the bathroom door. He was moved against the wall without a sound as the fourth individual crept in with the winter's chill, sliding through the apartment's shadows like he was night himself.

Misao stretched a bit, lifting her legs out of the water, propping them higher up on the tub edge. She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. Mentally, she began to pick out all the animal shapes she had found in the cracks. The paint was chipped and peeled, and if she squinted just right, that one in the left corner really looked like a monkey. She heard a thump from what sounded like the floor above her and some dust settled from the ceiling. This place really was a dump.

Her perusal of her ceiling animal portraits came to an abrupt stop as her door slammed open sharply. Her head whipped over to the source and her jaw set at seeing two men standing at her with weapons drawn. Her closest gun was between two towels on the towel rack. It was only two feet away, but to make any sudden move at this point would guarantee her a bullet in the head.

"Get out."

His gruff command made her muscles flex, and she stared at him. She did not have a lot of dignity, but pride she did have. She forced herself to not curl her lip as she stayed where she was, eyes not leaving either man as she tried to think of how to get out of this situation.

The one behind him shifted. "Just kill her. She'll feel the same if she's alive or dead, at least for the first half hour, and as long as she's dead our job is done."

She saw red, and her fingers gripped the edge of the tub so tightly that they turned white. _'Those mother-fucking sons of bitches-'_

"She will not be dying today, much less doing anything else such as you have implied."

They did not even get the opportunity to full turn around. Misao craned to see what was going on, but in the dim lighting of her apartment, all she managed to see was the splatter of blood on the doorjam as the first man fell. The second one fired his gun, but apparently did not make his mark. He jerked violently and collapsed on top of the first body.

She berated herself for not taking that scant moment of opportunity to get to her gun, and she felt anger flutter in her chest to realize just who was her savior.

Thin lips pulled into a wide smile and she found that there was something beyond creepy about it. Something about the way he looked at her unnerved her, and she realized it was because she did not know what he felt. He hid it well, even if she knew it was there.

His eyes were drifting, and she had to remind herself she was still in her bath, naked. Soapy water did a poor job at covering her body from his eyes, and her breasts were barely below the waterline. She narrowed her eyes in warning, black hair messily clinging to skin. It probably did not appear as intimidating as she hoped.

He seemed amused by the purse of her lips, the furrow of her brows, and the silent, blazing fury that rode through her. He almost missed her words, too absorbed in the way a droplet of water rolled down the pale column of her neck.

"What do you want?"

He blinked out of his trance, though the smile did not falter. Reaching over, he grabbed the first towel on the rack, and to her relief he did not see the gun between the others. He held out the fabric for her to take. "Cover yourself."

She snarled something vulgar under her breath, yanking the cloth from his fingers and stood as he turned around, water splashing as she hastily covered her body. Even with his back to her, he stood beside the rack. Any sudden movement on her part would alert him of her attempt. She was not so sure she could be fast enough to get her gun and aim it at him before he could retaliate. He was not killing her just yet, so she would have to wait it out.

His words broke through her calculations. "Get dressed."

She scowled darkly, her temper rising. "Don't tell me what to do, prick."

Blue eyes half turned to peer at her, and that smile was still there. "Get dressed, _please."_

"You arrogant, pompous, fucking, litt-" Her tirade of insults and slanders abruptly halted when she realized she was now against the wall, his hands like vices on her upper arms. She had not seen him move, and that truly frightened her. She hid that fear under defiant anger as he stared her down, even if her breathing had suddenly become shallow upon realizing just how much at a disadvantage she was. His words were breathy whispers, terse despite the smile on his face. "Please do not make this hard for me. I do not want to knock you out and carry you from here, but I will if you do not cooperate with me. There will be others. You foolishly left your door unlocked. How many more attempts do you think you could survive tonight?" He arched a brow, and his smile turned almost mocking. "Now please get dressed. Your towel is slipping."

His hold on her relinquished and she could feel heat flare into her face as she took in his words. Her door. Her tongue darted out over her lips as her hands went down to adjust the towel. '_So fucking **stupid**, Misao. You were so distracted by_ ..._**him** that you forgot to lock the door.'_ Not that it would not have stopped them from getting in. The locks were crap, but she might have had more of a warning. Not to mention how incompetent that made her look in his eyes.

She should not have cared, but it stung her pride.

Turning on heel, she stormed out of the bathroom, ignoring her gun sitting on the shelf. There were others elsewhere, and possibly easier to access than that one, considering he was standing right there. Angrily, she began to rip open drawers to find clothes to wear, and she did not even bother to see if he was watching as she flung the towel on her bed. She did not want to keep her back to him, but right now she did not care.

"Dress warm."

"Bite me."

His lips quirked upward once more as he stared out the window of her apartment, his foot tapping the floor more out of idle animation than actual impatience. He turned after giving her two minutes and saw her pulling down a long-sleeved black shirt over her tiny waist. His eyes lingered on the pale skin before it disappeared and she moved for her socks and boots. He glanced back out the window only a moment and heard the telltale click of the hammer and sighed.

She stared at him, barrel trained on the back of his head. "Who the fuck are you?"

"We are running short on time."

"I asked you a question. Who. Are. You?"

He sighed again and turned back to her, blue eyes meeting her own. He did not look amused, even if his lips seemed to be permanently tilted up. "For now, I am the Tenken."

She swallowed, but that was the only indication that she knew the weight of the name. There were names that brought fear throughout the underground. Battousai was one. Tenken was another. There were more, but she focused on that piece of information. He was supposedly ungodly fast. Most could not see their death coming by his hand.

She inhaled sharply when he was no longer standing in front of her, vanishing like a ghost. A hand grabbed the top of her weapon, the other settling on her shoulder. _She had not seen him move._ "Please, just trust me. I have no intention of harming you. This, I promise. If I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead a long, long time ago. I have had a thousand opportunities in the blink of an eye."

His arrogance! His stupid, stupid...!

She bit down the angry retort in her throat. She hated it, loathed it to be true, but after just seeing that, she knew he was right.

She did not realize she was shaking until he gently pride the weapon from her fingers.

"Find you a coat and let's go. I do not want to stay here any longer than we must. Take anything with you that could give information out you do not want."

She shook her head, ripping herself from his touch and pulled on a coat heavier than the jacket from earlier. It was lined with fleece, and while not exactly ideal for the cold outside, it was leaps and bounds above her earlier attire. Finishing with dressing, she grabbed a few things, shoving them into various pockets and then turned to the picture on her shelf.

The Tenken watched her internal struggle on the frame before she scowled and knocked it behind the shelf. "I'm ready," She grumbled as she pulled her hair into a mess of a ponytail.

He tilted his head at her. "Do you trust me?"

Her look held a certain amount of contempt. "No. Let's go."

"Here," He held out her gun. She took it, and the weight suggested he had not unloaded it. "You shouldn't need it, but it never hurts to be prepared."

She scoffed, tucking it into her belt. She didn't have time to get a holster, especially not with the way he was ushering her outside. The cold bit at her, and it would take her a few moments to get used to its kiss once again. She tugged the collar of her coat up a little, shoving her hands in her pockets as she went down the stairs to the parking lot. He stopped in front of a motorcycle at the far end, and she grimaced. "Really?"

He gave a shrug, smiling at her as he seated himself on the vehicle. She stared at him, before finally giving in and sliding on behind him. There were no helmets, and she was not surprised. Her arms wrapped around him, pressing into his coat as her hands latched together at his stomach. She could hear the amusement in his voice, "Guess I don't have to tell you to hold tight."

She said nothing, biting her cheek in irritation as the motor roared to life and he took off, leaving the scene behind them.

* * *

_Phoe-chan_


	4. Chapter 3: Last Wishes of the Departed

**AN:** Rewritten October 13, 2012. Majorly changed the dynamic of Enishi and Kaoru, as well as Soujiro and Misao. Many won't remember the original, but trust me, this is for the better and much more natural.

**Warnings:** OOC, language. The usual.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 3 :: Last Wishes of the Departed_

* * *

Enishi had not attempted to return to sleep. No, much had to be done before he felt comfortable returning to his chambers. It was not fear that drove him to sleeplessness tonight. He did not _fear_ Battousai. No, no. Nothing so silly as that.

He smiled slightly, tips of his fingers pressing together as he stared down the monitor on his desk. He wanted him dead. The man was a hindrance to his plans, a thorn in his side. And he wanted revenge.

Right now though, his men had not found a trace of the assassin. He did not expect them to, either. The attack was only a warning, a promise of what he could do, a game. Enishi did so enjoy games. It made the ending much sweeter. Battousai was taunting him, trying to make him sloppy. Oh, but he was not a sloppy man. No, no, he was a deliberate, calculating man.

He would win this chess game, and Battousai's head would be his. And that would only further his ascension of power.

Smiling lazily, his eyes skimmed the content on his monitor, reading over the detailed profile and report. '_Hawatari Hikaru. Are you not an interesting creature to have gotten herself involved in my web?'_

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft beeping. Lifting his phone to his ear, he inquired in a soft voice, "Yes?"

He frowned, listening to the voice on the other side. Well, now. That was interesting.

* * *

The ride was longer than Misao wished it to be. Of course, she had wished it to be over before it had begun. Tenken was not a crazy driver, in fact, he was being cautious with the consideration of them being followed, she knew. But it was cold, she was growing tired, and she did not want to be pressed against this man any more than she had to be. He annoyed her, angered her, and on some level, frightened her deeply.

No man should move that fast. Ever.

When they finally did stop, it was not anywhere she suspected was their true destination. The building was desolate, and the parking lot just the same. Unease filtered through her and she pulled back from him to look around as he killed the engine. "What," She hissed, looking around, "Are you doing?" As much as she wanted to be demanding, the agitation fluttered through her words.

Tenken craned his neck to glance back at her and smiled cheerfully, and she wanted to punch it off his face. "Don't worry. I just need the okay to proceed. We do not need anyone trailing us, no?"

She scowled, not liking this one bit, and folded her arms across her chest. Her hands were numb with cold, and she was tired enough to not pretend she liked it. "Right, whatever. So are you really the Tenken?"

His smile widened, amusement glittering in his eyes "I am."

"You don't look like I pictured."

"No?" He was grinning now, and she glared at him darkly. "What were you picturing?" He was enjoying this far more than he should, and she hated that she had said anything now.

She refused to back down at this point now. "I didn't expect a smiling freak."

His eyes crinkled, but he said nothing. It goaded her into continuing. "And you're young. And just... I don't know. You don't look at all like I expected." She refused to admit her mental image had supplied tall, dark and handsome. Not... short, cute and boyish. It was not in her constitution to admit that without committing suicide.

"I am older than you," He commented idly.

She frowned. "What makes you think that?"

That amusement was starting to wear on her. "It is a fact. I am twenty-three. You turned twenty-two last month."

Misao froze. He had done his homework, or someone had done it for him. She did not doubt he knew her real name, too. He had chosen to not address her with it at any point though, and she realized it was because he was not certain they had not been followed. "How long..." She started, before shaking his head. "How long have you been spying on me?"

Tenken tilted his head and regarded her. "Me, personally? Two weeks."

His words indicated someone else had been doing so for longer, and she suddenly felt the winter's cold much worse than she had all night. Unease settled through her, and she knew he could sense it. A sterile, continental ringtone of a cell phone interrupted her worries and he answered after two rings promptly. "Yes?" He listened for a moment. "Thank you."

The conversation was over like that and he nodded his head to her. "We are in the clear. Please hold tight."

She belatedly notice that she complied without any mental objections, arms sliding around him again, which bothered her. She also noticed he was incredibly polite. That also bothered her, but because it made it harder for her to hate him.

* * *

He stood quietly in the shadows, watching the peons of the tiger meander about in waves of incompetence. Yukishiro knew they would find nothing, but yet he still tried. Wasted effort, and he had no understanding as to why the man would bother using resources for pointless things. His eyes drifted down to the device in his palm, and a thin red brow arched delicately at the contents. There was not much there that was useful against Yukishiro right now...

But he knew how Enishi was. Greedy, powerful, and always wanting more. If he was bothering to look at this information that was unimpressive from a tactical or business standpoint, then he was looking at it from a personal standpoint.

Amber eyes glinted in the night. Nothing useful yet, but given the right circumstances... it would play a huge role in the tiger's downfall.

Smirking, he saved the information to the device before the security systems could discover the tap and turned it off. He would have to do some research of his own. For whatever power Enishi _thought_ he had in intelligence, Battousai had it _tenfold_.

* * *

There was something undoubtedly wrong about the situation, and Misao was fast considering diving off the bike. Unfortunately, she did not wish to break a limb in the process, and now that they were not being followed, Tenken was not being so...careful about his driving.

The mansion they were approaching was huge and luxurious, and somehow vaguely familiar. She had not been to this part of town in years, staying low and hidden in the scum downtown that she had left just an hour prior. What was this place, and how was the Tenken connected to it?

How was _she_ connected to it?

They passed through security that suggested much more than the luxury of the residence before her. This was not simply a wealthy place. This was a powerful place. It made her blood run cold at the possibilities. So few men had power like this. And none of them were good company.

The thought of _'it's a trap'_ rang through her head several times as the bike slowed to a stop inside a massive garage. Individuals moved about, whether working, patrolling or what ever else, and it was clear this was a place that never saw sleep. Someone was always busy. Another bad sign.

She let him lead her, though she stiffened at the way his hand pressed against the small of her back to guide her. The familiarity behind the motion annoyed her, but not enough to distract her from taking in her surroundings, trying to memorize the paths they walked. She would need to escape. To do so, she needed all the information she could get.

Too bad the place was a damned maze. After several turns, she suspected he was purposely taking the long way around. She opened her mouth to comment on it when he stopped, and his hand slid to her arm to make her do so as well. They stood before a set of beautiful wooden doors, a guard on either side. He smiled at her brightly. "Through here."

Misao stared at him and his expression did not falter under the scrutiny. He pushed open a door and ushered her through, and she found walking down a long draped in lavish tapestries and expensive decor. They approached a second set after several feet of the first, and Tenken stopped her from moving forward. She noticed now the change in his posture. It was subtle, but she somehow picked up on the fact that whatever was behind this door was important. Whatever was behind this door controlled him.

She frowned. What kind of man could control someone like the Tenken?

He smiled at her and rapped his knuckles three times against the wood door.

There was only a brief pause before the left side opened, and a man Misao took for a butler appeared. His hair was slicked back, and dark rings under his eyes suggested a problem with sleep. His uniform was of excellent cut, and his posture suggested despite his appearance, he held some authority. "Ah, you have returned. Shishio-sama awaits you both."

Tenken smiled and nodded his head. "Thank you, Houji-san." Anything more he could have said was cut off by Misao's sudden inhalation. Her eyes were wide, and the vice like grip he now had on her arm suggested he knew how she had intended to react.

"You fucking, goddamned liar," She hissed through clenched teeth. He had brought her straight into a lion's den. She was one step away from Yukishiro-in the fact that this man was _his partner._

She would not die like this. She would not! She whirled on the Tenken, hand going to her gun. Her ponytail whipped about as she pointed at him, and her eyes were wide with anger and intent to kill.

His own were much calmer, glittering with... _amusement?_ The bastard was laughing at her. She trembled with rage, despite the fact his own gun was trained on her, and probably had been even before her hands had found the grip of her own. "Kill me now you bastard because I will not let you make a fool out of me like this."

He smiled at her and she screamed in frustration, pulling the trigger. She would die on her own terms!

Her eyes were wide as she found her gun pointed to the ceiling, his fingers around her wrist and his breath washing over her ear. He was just too fast. Anger at herself swelled in her and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She refused to let him win. Trembling with untethered rage, she stood there, knowing that there was nothing she could do.

His words were a whisper, curling around the shell of her ear as he gently chastised, "Do not jump to conclusions so quickly. It is not as you think."

"I am _not_ going anywhere near that man," She hissed sharply, and drove an elbow into his gut. He moved back to avoid part of the blow, but had not wanted to release his hold on her, and so he simply absorbed some of the hit. Sighing in what might have been exasperation, he pried the gun from her fingers and then tossed her over his shoulder. In the span of a breath he had crossed the room with her in tow. She was disoriented as the world came back into focus, and by the time she realized that she had even been picked up he dropped somewhat unceremoniously onto a very plush settee. It took her a moment to recover and she pushed herself up onto her elbows, her anger lost behind her disorientation.

Tenken moved to stand behind the piece of furniture, and her eyes followed him briefly before she lifted her gaze to the man who sat across from her. He was lounging on a matching settee, although his was draped with fabrics of rich, vibrant colors. His robes were black and traditional, of fine silks with detailed embroidery. A large portion of his body was wrapped in medicated gauze, and she had heard rumors about how he came to be dressed in them. He held a thin-stemmed pipe between his fingers, and softly exhaled a thin stream of smoke. Behind him, a woman dressed in nothing but a red satin robe stood with a glass of wine in her hands, the dark liquid almost gone.

It really was him. Shishio Makoto. She narrowed her eyes and met his gaze with an air of arrogance that matched few others. She was so dead.

There was a long drawn out silence as both man and woman regarded each other, one with curious reservation and the other with open, arrogant hostility. After what may have been several minutes, he smiled. "Makimachi Misao."

His voice was deep, but it was the fact he knew her name, her _real_ name that truly unnerved her. And damn him it was showing on her face, too. She said nothing, jade green staring at him with an unreadable expression. There was no point in hiding the fact he already knew, and so she decided to find her voice and spat back out, "Shishio Makoto. The man who monopolizes the black market for illegal technology and the business partner of Yukishiro Enishi." She curled her lip as she spat the other man's name out.

He grinned, baring his teeth. "And founder of the Ten Swords."

Any words in her throat caught and she pulled her head back in what was most certainly surprise. The night had been full of them. Her eyes flickered back and forth, gauging him and the woman, as well as the butler-like man in the corner. This was...there was... She swallowed, goosebumps forming along her skin. "You're lying."

"Oh? You think so? I would lie about being the creator for something so... counter-productive to what you think I do?"

She snarled, words leaving her before she could help herself, "You mean to tell me you, who partners with Yukishiro, could be responsible for the one organization that has managed to put any amount of pressure on the underground, on _him?!_"

The muscle movement behind the bandages suggested he was arching a brow at her outburst. She did not care. "You're full of shit! You all are! Just stop stringing me along! I. do. not. play. mind. games." She ended her words in a punctuated hiss, fingers digging into the cushions under her. The man before her had the audacity to be bored and he looked over at the butler, "I thought you said she was competent."

She bristled, but he continued, ignoring her tirade. "Regardless of my first impressions of you, I have a debt to repay and I will do it."

A debt. She knew it. She had been found out and Yukishiro wanted her dead. Shishio was going to kill her, and he would make a sport out of it to please the bastard. She glared at him, her stomach churning at this revelation. Sweat was beading on her brow, at the back of her neck, and down her spine. She wanted nothing more than to lunge at him and rip his throat out with her teeth.

His next words shattered the world as she saw it.

"I worked with Shinomori Aoshi ten years ago."

Time stood still. Color drained from the world as her vision focused in on this man. This man she hated without ever meeting him before, based on a judgment of who she thought he was. This man...knew Aoshi. This man worked with him.

And if she was picking up on what he was saying, this man owed Aoshi a debt. One that he intended to repay through her.

She looked pale, and threatening to lose her lunch. Perspiration gathered on her top lip, and the fire left her in a whoosh, leaving behind an exhausted woman. She was tired of running, of hiding. She was tired of so very much. Tired of missing him. Tired of living. Tired of losing. Everything tired her.

Now, instead of anger, there was resignation and weariness in her visage and Shishio tilted his head, considering it. "It took time to find you. You hide well. Even my network could not keep tabs on you for long. Your resourcefulness is admirable. I wish to use your talents."

She was half listening. Praise was nothing she cared for. She knew she was good. There was nothing he could offer short of-

"And I am certain you want to help bring Yukishiro Enishi down to the depths of hell."

-_That._

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She wanted time to think, to evaluate how her life had suddenly been turned around. This was the opportunity she had been looking for, but did she really want to take it? The Ten Swords... she had known of the organization for a long time. There was very little that had leaked out about them, but with Kaoru's help, she knew that they were largely responsible for putting dents into many of the major illegal operations in the country. She could not call them moral, because Kaoru's sources indicated they had done many of their own devious things to get to the level of power they were at...but compared to men like Yukishiro, they were saints.

But could she stoop so low as to work for these people? What would they have her do? Years ago, she had honor, a sense of self-worth and morals. The Oniwabanshuu instilled a great many of these traits in her, taught her how to do her job without losing who she was.

When Aoshi died that all went to hell.

They would ask her to do unscrupulous things. She had _done_ unscrupulous things. But for _Aoshi_... to kill _Yukishiro_, to put an end to all of this so she could die peacefully... She would do all these things and more ten times over.

Sitting up, she leaned forward and slapped her hands onto her thighs, elbows out as she stared down this man who claimed to have known Aoshi. The chance he was lying was still there but it was so unlikely, and if he was lying she was screwed well before the game started anyway. Jade eyes narrowed into sharp slits, and finally she spoke.

"Where do we begin?"

Shishio smiled.

* * *

_Phoe-chan_


	5. Chapter 4: Orientations

AN: Rewritten October 13, 2012. Much changes in this chapter.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 4: Orientations_

Some time later found Misao in a suite that was classier than anything she had lived in for years. Complete with wood floors, a kitchenette, and matching leather furniture, she had been informed this would be her new living residence. It was not its own building, but rather one of many suites that was within the expanse of the House of Shishio.

She had much to think over, much to consider, and all she had wanted to do was sleep. That is exactly what she did, too. Stripping down to the bare essentials, she climbed into the bed, one that was far more comfortable than anything she had slept in for years, and it did not take her long to fall asleep.

If she bothered to think about it, it would have bothered her. Instead, she slept well into the afternoon. It was almost three when she pulled herself from her bed. She was surprised to find the closet was lined with items that seemed to be close to her size and fit. Nothing extravagant, mostly utilitarian attire that would serve its purpose of clothing her practically. She could not complain, and pulled on a t-shirt and pants.

She turned, and to her bemusement, her yellow-tinted glasses were sitting on the counter. At first, she assumed them simply a replacement, but the scratch on the left side of the frame was there. She had no clue about how it ended up here, but instead of mulling over it, she put the frames on her face. Might as well try to figure out what this place was about.

* * *

Kaoru had been surprised and uneasy when Enishi requested her appearance at lunch time. There should not have been a reason for them to interact yet so early in the game. She had not planned for this, and it was all she could do to keep her game face on when she was escorted by a guard to the man's private office. He was reclined in a leather office chair, and dressed in a white business suit with a green tie. He wore the outfit well, at least. She would give him that.

He smiled at her over a set of small, round shades. She was reminded of Misao for a moment, with her tendency to wear sunglasses in the most ridiculous of situations. She pushed the thought from her mind and bowed. "You requested my presence Yukishiro-sama?"

He watched her for a moment before he gestured the guard away. The man gave a stiff nod and left, the door clicking shut behind him. "Thank you for coming, Hikari-san. Do you mind if I call you Hikari-san?"

She shook her head, indicating she did not. It was not like it was her real name anyway, and she could not stop him even if she wanted to. Her unarmed skills needed some work.

"Good, good. I have been reviewing your profile. I enjoy knowing my operatives." She knew that was a bold-faced lie. He rarely bothered with such trivial things, but she smiled slightly, indicating she believed him. "And after evaluating yours, I have come to a conclusion."

He stopped there almost dramatically, and she had to stop from biting her lip. Had she messed up? Did he figure something out? Her mind skimmed the details of the false identity she had. Where could she have gone wrong? Had someone trailed her last night? She had made double and triple sure she was alone...

"I want you to be my bodyguard."

Her train of thought crashed violently and she could not help the perplexed look on her face. He noted it and smiled, "Something wrong, Hikari-san?"

She had to think fast, and fortunately, that was a strong point of hers, "Well... I suppose I do not understand. I have no qualms about your request, my Lord, but from what I understand you are quite a capable man in your own right, and I am also very new, not even out of probation. Why me?"

He smiled, and she knew that look. It was one of a predator. "There are few women working under me who are trained in the ways you are. It would be easy to conceal you as nothing more than pretty face by my side, and use that to my advantage." He paused, "I am a very capable man, but I am not god." He chuckled, "At least not yet."

She managed to not quirk her brow at that. This sounded almost too suspicious, too good to be true, but she could not turn him down without good reason, and she had none. And if he was being sincere about his desire to have a female guard, then this was her prime opportunity.

"If it pleases Yukishiro-sama, I would be honored to provide you protection."

"Most excellent. I will make the arrangements immediately. Someone will come for you shortly. That will be all."

She left with as much haste as she could without making it appear awkward for herself.

* * *

It was huge. She would give it that. Misao was not sure how long she spent just trying to figure her way out of the living quarters. Sure, she could have asked a guard for help, because many passed by, but she simply did not want to talk to anyone. She knew that she was probably on camera, too. The whole place was loaded with surveillance. They were probably laughing at her.

She made sure the give the finger in the direction of the next security camera she walked by. She felt slightly better after doing that.

Rounding the corner, she almost ran into someone, and she twisted to avoid hitting them head-on. The other person took a step back and tilted her head, regarding her curiously. She was pretty, with well-styled red hair, a face done in make-up, and fashionable clothing. Misao arched a brow at her, not at all bothered by her messy hair she had not bothered to thoroughly brush, her basic clothes, and the absolute absence of anything on her face outside of her glasses. "Sorry," She muttered aloofly, and moved past her.

"Ah!" The woman turned with her, putting a finger to her lip. "You must be Misao!"

She cringed. Really, did everyone know her name here? Sighing, she looked back at the pretty woman. "Yeah, who are you?"

The woman smiled brightly, much too cheery to be working in this kind of environment. Maybe it was an act. "My name is Kamatari. I'm the Commanding Officer in Communications." She seemed to have no problems telling her this information. Either they were confident Misao would not betray them, they had a contingency plan for if that would happen, or she was a complete idiot. Any of the three were possible, if not all of them.

"Ah." What else was she supposed to say to that?

"I'm sure you're a bit lost, since going that way just loops around the housing section. Follow me. I was on my way underground. I can help you get acquainted. We've got to get your security pass anyway."

Misao sighed. It looked like she was stuck with this woman at least for a little while. At least she was not smiling all the time. "Lead the way."

The underground was even more impressive than the top floor. Shishio's resources were to be admired. The communications department held technology Misao had never even heard of, and their network of intelligence likely spanned beyond the country. She was introduced to many people, but only managed to keep the names of a few. There was a man with bad hair by the name of Cho, who was responsible for the Munitions, which meant any and all weapons were inventoried, maintained, and distributed by his team. She suspected that the cursory glance she had gotten in that area was just the tip of the iceberg as to what Shishio had at his disposal. The garage was maintained by a very large man named Anji, and a few people working with him. Misao had noted the beads around his hand, and could only wonder what someone with religious values could be doing in a place like this.

But, hey, who was she to judge?

The woman with Shishio was apparently named Yumi, and Kamatari did not like her much. She had not figured out what her purpose was short of bed warmer, but at least she had a name. The butler-man was apparently Shishio's strategist, though his name still escaped Misao and she knew she had heard it the night before. Her brain desperately wanted to mark him as unimportant.

And from what she could gleam, picking up bits and pieces of information, but not wanting to ask too much, Shishio's right-hand man was named Seta Soujiro. She knew little else besides that.

She had found herself left to her own devices when someone came up babbling to Kamatari about a problem with some computer thing Misao knew nothing about. She left them to their devices and meandered back over to the place that had interested her the most-the weapons. Her eyes skimmed the contents that were out, hearing the very muffled sound of gunshots from the target range not far away. Cho approached, blond hair sticking up in the most ungodly style Misao had ever seen and she rocked her weight back on her heels to regard him coolly.

"You're that chick they brought in last night, eh?" He inquired, though his tone indicated he knew the answer. He was polishing a barrel, and seemed about as interested in her as she was him, which meant not very.

"Yeah." She glanced around, trying to appear nonchalant about her appraisal of the workspace. Machines were all around, cleaning equipment, and diagnostic equipment for maintaining everything. There was music in the background, something obnoxious that sounded potentially like dubstep. He _would_.

"Wha'd'ya do?"

She blinked and looked back over at him, her expression hinting at confusion. "Huh?"

He waved a hand, making an annoyed face. "Sniper? Poisons? Blow shit up?"

"Oh." She paused, thinking. "Whatever I can, I guess. I'm decent with handhelds. I really prefer knives, despite the fact they're not practical."

"Oh?" He quirked a brow at her, and then motioned for her to follow him. She did so, not having anything better to do, and was led to a display case of varying pointy objects. She observed them, before nodding her head in approval. "Nice."

Her eyes lifted to the dart board he had hanging, and a quick glance around spotted a few darts poking into a piece of styrofoam on the shelf. She plucked them off, glanced at the target and threw repeatedly, not giving time between each dart. Cho's brows lifted just a fraction as each dart hit the home bullseye, save the last that was off by about an inch.

She sighed. "I'm rusty."

"Still ain't bad," He offered. She nodded and looked over at him, then blinked at the person approaching behind them. Tenken smiled at her, and she scowled, folding her arms across her chest.

Cho blinked and looked behind him. "Oh, hey, Sou."

Misao paused. "Wait, Sou?"

Cho looked over at her. "You haven't been introduced? He's Soujiro."

"He's the _Tenken,_" Misao stated pointedly through gritted teeth.

Soujiro smiled, eyes crinkled at the corners. "I am both."

"Ah. So you're Shishio's right hand man _and_ his best operative. Go figure. Next you'll tell me he's your dad." She was going to kill him. She did not know how yet, but it would be bloody, embarrassing, and involve stringing his intestines up like Christmas lights.

"He's not," The young man replied cheerfully. "But speaking of Shishio-san, he has given orders regarding your situation. You will be working with me."

_'Oh god, why?' _

* * *

It took Misao a week of orientation before she was summoned for something beyond training and evaluation. She had had long days to show what her strengths and weaknesses were. She had been assessed, tested, and tried. More than once had she slugged someone for angering her, and she was certain they were still evaluating whether or not her temper was a pro or a con.

Soujiro had been around for a good chunk of it, but mostly just to oversee the work. He would come and go, and always she never saw him enter or leave. He would just be _there_. She was starting to think Shishio had done some secret experiment on him that allowed teleportation.

Whenever she was not required to be there, she was in her suite, alone, brooding. She had only been allowed limit access to the information the Ten Swords had on Yukishiro, and she suspected because they expected her to do rash things if she had enough to go with.

They were probably right.

She made a noise of exasperation, stepping into one of the conference rooms she had seen upon her initial tour. Mission information was distributed here, roles were assigned, and she had to wonder if this meant they were going to put her on the field.

Hopefully they would give her a rocket launcher and point her at Enishi.

Soujiro stood, politely pulling a chair out for her. She glared at him and made a point of yanking out the next chair down and sitting in it. She would not be subjected to chivalry. That crap was for pansies. He sighed, still smiling, and took seat as well.

Kamatari was there, too. Misao stared at her. Rumor had let slip that the woman had once been a man. She was squinting, trying to see it. She wondered if plastic surgery had been involved.

Houji stepped in, taking a stance in front of them and began to explain the situation. It was simple, meeting an informant for an information exchange. It was so routine, in fact, that the only reason the briefing had taken place was to better fill Misao in. Her job was going to be a shadow, blend in and make sure no one realized they or the informant were there.

She was not surprised they were starting her off small. She had to prove her worth. Her blood boiled with the idea of getting closer to Enishi, but this would have to do.

* * *

Kaoru's week had been much similar. The setting was different, but her orientation was fairly parallel. Now she was being thrown into her new job of being a glorified arm decoration as she walked with Enishi into the restaurant. The blue dress flattered her figure nicely, showing off her back and arms. It gave her the ability to move if needed, but also made her appear fairly harmless. The way she walked concealed the smooth metal pressed to her inside thigh.

Enishi's white suit was lined with blue that matched Kaoru's dress, and the two men that followed were the more obvious muscle the man had with him for the evening. The meeting was of business origins with another big leader, and while Enishi had not said who, she had her suspicions. There were many large powers that Enishi interacted with, and she was not surprised when she saw the drawn face of Takeda Kanryu, drug dealer extraordinaire. She had never met him in person, but she had seen pictures. She knew more about him than any of the other big names. He was sloppier than the other two, and Kaoru suspected he would likely meet his death well before anyone else in this game.

Good riddance, too.

The men exchanged pleasantries, and Kaoru was seated. She made a point of listening in on the conversation, but kept aloof and alert to her surroundings. Too much would draw attention to herself, so she had to carefully keep her mannerisms in check, which was trialing. All this acting and layers thereof was going to be a pain.

Midway through the dinner, she got the sneaking suspicion someone was watching her, but even after a careful assessment of their surroundings she could see no one. The two parties were the only ones in the restaurant, and besides them just the employees who served them. But, still, she could not shake that nagging feeling, and it was there even as they left for the evening.

As the door to Enishi's car was opened for her, she took one last glance around before tucking herself in. She was getting parnaoid.

From his place on the rooftop, Battousai watched the car drive off, pocketing away his scope and blending back into the shadows. He had been right.

A smile touched his lips. This would definitely work in his favor.

* * *

_-Phoe-chan_


	6. Chapter 5 : The Club

**AN**: Rewritten October 14th, 2012. More focus on Batt/Kaoru, less stupid involving the club scene.

**Warnings: **Some language, minor violence.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 5: The Club_

* * *

She was pretty sure corsets were not conducive to proper utilization of one's physical capabilities, but apparently that was what she was stuck with. Fortunately, it was less designed to destroy her internal organs and more design to push up everything she had. Which, admittedly, was not a lot.

She curled her lip as she stared in the mirror. She had never been a fan of skirts. Or lots of bling. At least they had the mindset to not give her dangling earrings. Someone would really rip them out knowing her luck.

Reaching behind and pulling the wedgie that was her thong out, she grimaced and pushed back an errant strand of hair that did not stay in the mess that was the top of her head. She reeked of hairspray and mousse. All this for some stupid information.

There was a reason she had preferred just killing things.

Trying to remember how to successfully walk in stilettos, Misao walked off to where she was supposed to disembark for this godforsaken job. _'Cho damned well better have something good for me to use tonight... It needs to involve fire.'_

Fire was not involved in the weapon she was rented out, but she was OK with that. He had taken her preference for knives to heart and given her a set of pointy objects to hide on her person. It had been a bit of a trial to find locations to hide them all, and she suspected he had been more than glad to help.

Half an inch closer to her ass, and he would have lost that finger.

Soujiro came around the corner then, dressed in clothing that fitted the setting, but certainly seemed more practical than hers. Damn men and their lack of corsets and stilettos. She paused, considering Kamatari. Damn _straight_ men...

He wore dark colors, and much to her amusement, had eyeliner on. The smirk tugging at her lips was met with a pained smile on his end. All he needed was some glitter, and then Misao would have been rolling in laughter.

Cho handed him the pair of guns and spare clips the man hid on his person, and Anji approached, dangling a set of keys. "C-24," He rumbled quietly, before stalking off.

Soujiro pocketed the keys. "I have our parameters. Let's go."

* * *

Enishi had given her praise on a job well done. Kaoru was not sure why since she had done little out of look like a pretty decoration, but she supposed the "be quite and look pretty" stance on things was something he enjoyed.

The lingering touches on her skin that he had left also indicated whatever else he might enjoy. Annoyed, she stepped into her apartment, her actions belying her frustration. Yukishiro had supplied her a new apartment, car, everything. She knew why, too.

Everything was rigged.

She had no doubt he was monitoring her every move now, and so she did not let her guard down in the slightest. She doubted she had an ounce of privacy from where he was concerned, and she only wondered if some middleman was monitoring the cameras, or if he was doing so himself.

As her dress slipped to the floor, she figured it was likely the latter.

Moving across the floor with the grace of a cat in her undergarments, she turned a lamp on near her bed and sat down. Her mind pulled at ideas of how to shake their watchful eyes so that she could do her _real_ job more efficiently, but without making it obvious that she was looking for escapes, it was going to be hard.

Sighing, she flipped the television on and flopped back onto the mattress, uncaring who was getting a nice view of her bikini line.

* * *

Misao discovered that "C-24" meant the parking space assigned to the vehicle in question. Now flying down the road in a black Maserati, which was completely and utterly over the top in her opinion, she could only stare out the window and think about her life as it was.

Soujiro occasionally interrupted her thoughts with information regarding the job. Misao did her best to not look annoyed. She was being bratty, and she knew it. If she did poorly on this, she likely would not get another shot. Shishio would not tolerate incompetence and pettiness.

Soujiro parked some distance away from their destination in a deck, and so Misao was forced to walk in the cold. She had forgotten a jacket, and while the winter's bite did not hit her like it did most others, even she felt it with hardly a stitch on. She sucked it up though, folding her arms across her chest and doing her best to not tremble.

It took her a moment to realize some of the chill lifted. She glanced down to see the Tenken's jacket over her shoulders, and she quirked a brow at him. He smiled, shrugging. "Being a popcicle doesn't help us get the job done. I'll take it back before we get in, though. We need to go in separately."

Right. They were not supposed to be a couple or know each other. That way she could easily mingle and he could get the information without them looking like they were connected.

She went in first.

Everything had been rigged so that she would have no trouble getting in, and she found herself in a hot, sweaty building with heavy bass ringing in her ears and the smell of too many things all at once. She had not been in a scene like this in a long time, but it was not hard to fit in. She wove through the dance floor, eyes scanning for anything and everything out of the ordinary.

It took her about ten minutes before she muttered softly, "Clear." Even over the thrum of music, even with all the noise, the word reached Soujiro clearly thanks to the strange little thing pressed against her throat and hidden by the thick necklace she wore. She heard an affirmative in the tiny piece of technology in her ear. This stuff was beyond her, but she did not question it.

She saw him come in, his body language lax as he blended quite easily in with the crowd. That smile of his really helped here, making him appear easy-going and approachable. She did her best to not focus on him too much, keeping her eyes on the rest of the crowd, and when she finally saw him again, he was sliding into a booth in the shadows. A man sat there already, one she had seen earlier.

That must have been the informant.

She moved around to a better vantage point, hips grinding briefly against someone who got close, and she paid it half a mind as she positioned herself to see the majority of the room as well as the two men. The informant was tall, and the way the lights glittered off his face suggested a sincere amount of piercings.

That was about all she could see and turned her attention away from them to focus on the doorway once more.

"Whadaya want?" His voice was a drawl, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he chewed on a martini straw.

Tenken's eyes slid around the room as he murmured softly, "The strong will live, and the weak will die. How do you side?"

A slow grin stretched across the other man's face, teeth very white in the shadows of the booth. "I'm the strongest of 'em all. So whadaya want?"

Soujiro nodded. "Zanza, you have some information for the Ten Swords. I am here to collect it."

The other man canted his head to look at him, eyes sliding around the perimeter before he exhaled softly, "I hope you guys are planning for something big."

Soujiro arched a brow, lips pulled up in a tiny smile. He said nothing and Zanza pursed his lips before tossing a tiny square no bigger than his thumb. "It's all I got, but it's big. You don't have a lot of time."

"Do you need to get out?"

A pause. "I might. I can't promise I can find much more out for you. I could drop this act and go back into fighting, but someone might recognize my face."

Tenken nodded, agreeing. "The money will be in your secondary account within the hour. If you choose to leave, send me a message. Ten Swords will be glad to assist your relocating. You have been most vital to us."

Zanza nodded and slid out of his chair. "I'll let you know. Enjoy the night. Your chick is hot."

"Like heartburn" Soujiro muttered, smiling still_. _"Clear?"

_"Yeah. What's like heartburn?"_

He paused, before muttering, "Just the atmosphere here. Mingle, then we'll make our leave."

She did just that, as she had been doing all night, moving to the music and pushing up against bodies she did not know. She was not sure how much time passed before she saw them enter. Two men, both large, muscular, dressed suspiciously... _out of place._

"One o'clock, two. Together. Guarding the exit."

"Affirmative."

The voice was in both ears and she whirled around on him. He caught her by the waist and pulled her close, nose pressing into her hair and body dangerously close. "Talking at nothing looks strange, especially to well-trained eyes. Stay with me."

She had no choice. She scowled, but reluctantly slipped her arms around him, hips moving against his in ways far more intimate than she really, really wanted. She hated crap like this.

He was moving her, so fluidly and naturally that for a while she did not realize it, keeping her head slightly down and focused on her rhythm. By the time she noticed where she was, his hand gripped her waist tightly to signal her attention. They were on the outside of the crowd, as close as they could get to the exit without leaving their cover. Neither man had moved.

She grimaced, watching how they scrutinized the few people going in and out. She did not doubt someone was on the other side doing the same thing from the shadows. They could chance making it past them, but did they have faces and names? Or were they just going off of a tip?

She glanced up at Soujiro and his near-pensive expression seemed to reflect a lot of what she was feeling. His lips were barely a smile.

"I can take them out," She commented softly, nose nuzzling his neck.

He stiffened at the contact before replying, "Quietly, without drawing attention to yourself?"

"They'll never know it's me."

"Do it."

She pulled back from him only slightly, fingers sliding up his arms and shoulders. He watched her curiously before she slipped her hand up through her hair, fingers finding what she was looking for. With a soft click the needle came free of its holder, and she moved to the next one, doing the same. These things were not what she was used to throwing, so small and precise. But their weight was heavy, and gave her a sense of familiarity. It would be close, but no one would notice if she missed.

Well, unless she hit someone else.

Pursing plum-painted lips she watched the first man and waited for the path to be clear. He was glancing away, and then the couple that had been lingering in front of her moved to the side. _There._ She twisted, dipping back and hoping Soujiro would not drop her as she flung her arms out in what appeared to be a careless gesture. The first needle founds its mark in the man's neck and he reached up to slap his hand against it before he jerked it out quickly. With his distraction, Misao threw the other, and it found mark in a similar location.

She felt Soujiro pull her back up out of the dip, and she pressed her face against his chest, muttering, "Done."

It was only a few seconds later before the chaos started when the two men dropped. People began screaming, fleeing as fast as they could. Taking the opportunity, Misao and Sourjiro moved with the crowd, hands laced together and pushing through the narrow exit that had bottle-necked the crowd. Neither were scared of anything more than trampling, and as soon as Soujiro pushed through the door with Misao in tow, he scooped her up in his arms and disappeared.

* * *

"Put me down, damnit," She hissed once she got her bearings straight and realized they were on the main floor of the parking deck. What's worse was the fact he hardly looked winded from that effort. He smiled at her and then let go of her, allowing her feet to touch the floor. It did not stop her from hitting his shoulder. "Seriously, could we not have just ran like a pair of freaked out clubbers?"

"Not if they had people outside waiting for us. We don't know if they had faces, right?" He lifted his brows and grinned. "Besides, that was more fun."

She growled darkly, shooting him the finger. "Open this stupid door right now. It's fucking cold out." Her words did not hold their usual bite, however.

"Yes ma'am." Ah well, at least she was nice to look at.

* * *

She was not sure when she had dozed off, much less why she woke up. Blinking blearily, she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at the television. The volume was too low to have jolted her awake, and so she had to wonder what noise she heard.

Slowly she stood, stretching her arms up over her head and adjusting her bra that had become somewhat misaligned during her snooze. Well, she needed to properly get ready for bed anyway. Yawning, she padded across the floor toward her bathroom, pushing the door open.

Her fingers reached for the light switch but an arm wrapped around her and yanked backward. Her back hit someone's chest, and even before she could scream or retaliate, the other hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled, but their grip was like a vice. She drew her foot up and lashed out in a sharp kick that made him hiss. His response was to flip them so that she was pressed face-first against the wall with his weight holding her there. In this position, she could not get the leverage to kick at him. She was completely trapped. Panic ate at her, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

His words made her shudder, eyes wide. "Hello, Hikari." He paused, and she could hear the smile, "Or should I say...Kaoru?"

* * *

Phoe-chan


	7. Chapter 6: Bewildered

**AN**: Originally, a very talented friend of mine took the liberty to write a large portion of this chapter for me. Because it is her work, I did my best to let as much remain in tact that I could while still keeping the flow of the story. Thank you to Chaos for helping. She has long since left , but I have always and ever been grateful for her help.

That said, I still had to butcher a lot of this. The kissing scene is gone. It does not work with the set up that is going now.

**Warnings**: Slight Lime content, if one could even call it such.

* * *

**I Am...**

_Chapter 6: Bewildered_

* * *

Her heart was pounding her chest. This man knew her name. This man had her pinned in her own apartment, heedless of the surveillance cameras she knew were there, and she was two steps away from being completely naked.

"Don't scream."

Instead of panic, she was angry. Angry that he would assume she might, angry at the situation. He seemed to sense her rage and the amused chuckle that escaped him only angered her further. Her back hit the wall faster than she could keep up with, almost knocking the wind out of her. But what _truly_ made her breathless was the pair of glinting amber eyes staring at her and the cross-like scar she could barely make out in the dark.

Her wide-eyed gaze said it all. _'I know who you are.'_

He smiled at her. _'And I know who you are.'_

* * *

She was glad to be back in her little home now. Showering had been a necessity to get the smells off, and now she needed to relax. That they had known someone would be there bothered her, but Soujiro said he would give the report himself. There was no need for her to stay.

She almost found the dismissive statement angering, but she chose to just take it for what it was and leave. She was too easily riled up these days, especially by him. She was not sure what infuriated her about him, just that it did.

What better time for introspection and reflection? Well, plenty of better times, but Misao was too antsy to go to sleep. Stepping out of her shower in a terrycloth bathrobe, she pondered on what to wear, before sliding on a white halter top and black panties. She was grateful she had been allowed to get some clothing of her own, because she did not like sleeping in much to begin with.

Rummaging around in her kitchenette, she found the glass she was looking for with little effort and the bottle she had left sitting out from some previous night. Whipped vodka was a guilty pleasure, one she should not have been drinking straight, but she really did not care. Hopefully it would help her relax.

Her thoughts drifted back to Soujiro. Sure, he was talented. That was a given. He knew it, too. She was certain some of her frustration stemmed from that. She hated that kind of arrogance. Every man she had known had been like that. It drove her up a wall. He was... well, he was cute. That probably didn't help either. It was simply a defense mechanism to bully him because of it. That smile drove her crazy. It always hid what he was thinking. She lived by her emotions, was fueled by them. He was her polar opposite in that regard, which bothered her.

How could one even _live_ like that?

She had not even realized the glass was empty until she was already on her path back to the kitchen for the next round. Although small, she had a fair amount of liquor tolerance, but even still she probably did not need to drink too much. Determined to limit herself to one more glass only, she put the bottle away after refilling and proceeded to pad back across the room and over to the armchair that hung out in the middle of the living area. The half-naked girl reclined lazily in the seat, her slender pearl-hued legs hooked on one of the arms as she settled into a comfortable sprawl, nursing her drink much more slowly this time. One leg swung, kicking off the side of the huge seat.

"Hmm..." Now finally relaxing and cooling off for the first time in days, she she shut her eyes, letting the alcohol hit her. Her mind wandered, not staying on any one thought for very long, and leaving her feeling warm and fuzzy.

She was so caught up by her midnight drink, Misao missed the quiet knock on the door.

The tapping increased but the hushed noise was lost to the young woman as she stood, humming softly as she strode into the bathroom, pushing the door almost closed.

The knocking turned to loud rapping but the faucet she had twisted on and left running drowned out the sound.

Finally, the doorknob turned slowly then continued onwards in a full circle as the lock did not catch.

"Misao?" Soujiro glanced around, frowning inwardly as he kept his smile plastered onto his face_._ Really, had she left the door unlocked again? Where had she gone? He frowned, glancing around. The heat was on, blowing softly and creating a soft blanket as he padded around, trying to figure out if she truly was not there. Puzzled, he scratched at his hawkish nose with a slender finger, when he realized part of the sound he was hearing was not the central heat.

At that moment the bathroom door flung back open and on instinct he melted into the shadows cloaking the far corner of her quarters. His eyes widened to see the lack of clothing she had on, even more so than earlier that night. Her damp hair had bled through the top, making the rosy tips of her breasts peek through, and the black panty she wore rode high on her hips, showing off toned muscle and creamy flesh.

He swallowed as his eyes were drawn to certain parts of her anatomy. The man known as Tenken watched in appreciation as the woman who had been named his partner meandered back into the living area. Soujiro realized that she was coming close to him, and he needed to escape.

She twisted around and sprawled out provocatively on the cushion of her chair, half dressed and utterly inviting. His eyes drew down to the juncture between her legs as she rolled her neck, glass in hands and eyes closed.

He felt hot, more than he should have, and he almost wished he could just step forward and help loosen some of the stiffness in those muscles she was now flexing and stretching. Realizing that line of thought he swallowed again, nervousness battling with lust. If she knew he was in here she would try to kill him every day for the rest of his life. And after seeing her ability with pointed projectiles, he was not interested in taking such chances.

Misao moaned softly, stretching out her tired body as she took another sip of the slowly depleting liquor.

The graceful movements of the young woman in front of him struck Soujiro in a way he had never thought could be possible before. Like a blade of overwhelming sensation had found his beating heart and stabbed deep.

Said untouchable heart skipped a beat as Misao tossed her waterfall of hair over her shoulder. Tossing back the damp locks bared the pale column of her throat, and made the supple curves showing through her shirt that much more noticeable. He _really_ needed to leave before he did something he regretted.

Oblivious, Misao continued her little show, loosening the knots in her muscles and easing the aches in her bones. By this point, she was half asleep, her mind a pleasant haze of half-formed thoughts and completely unaware of how she had coaxed a burning ache in the loins of the Tenken, who stood in the shadows watching her ardently.

Misao sighed, running a hand over her thigh before tipping back the last gulp of vodka. A droplet ran down the corner of her mouth and her neck, and she wiped at it, before licking her finger clean of the liquid.

If he did not leave now, he was going to ravage her.

Eyes lifted to the door, debating on if he could make it past her without giving her a clue. The door was shut, which was the hardest part. He rocked his weight back slightly and froze when he brushed against the blinds over the window, the gentle noise of them clacking together startling Misao from her daze.

She turned her head to him and her eyes widened in shock when they met his. With an undignified squeak, she flailed and tried to sit up, losing her balance in the process. She closed her eyes, expecting to land roughly on the floor... Only to freeze as she was caught up into the cradle of slim but strong arms.

Tilting her head back, she found herself staring into Soujiro's face, and the light tinge on her cheeks blossomed into dark crimson at his close proximity and the hooded look he was giving her.

Soujiro was breathing shallowly, wondering why he had not just let her fall and took that opportunity to escape. Except she had seen him, and now he was in a worse situation, holding her close, half naked and utterly enticing. He swallowed again, and watched her eyes drop down to his Adam's apple.

She licked her lips and he felt some of his control waver, his grip tightening on her just a hair. He had not yet changed from the job, and still smelled faintly of smoke and sweat, and with all the alcohol in her system, she really could not find it in her to care.

"Why..." She started, eyes flickering over his face, "Are you holding me?"

He could not help the slight grin that tugged at his lips even though the roughness in his belied his amusement, "You were falling."

"Oh..."

He pulled himself from his crouch, taking her with him, and she made a startled noise, her fingers clutching at him. He chuckled softly and deposited her back on the chair, words coming out hurriedly and quietly. "Came to tell you something, but I think I will wait until the morning. Good night, Misao."

Before she could even reply he was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

She blinked blearily, before annoyance flared up and she pushed herself to her feet. Turning, she almost bumped into the coffee table before noting her glass sitting on the corner of it. She made a face. "Didn't that fall?"

Outside the door, Soujiro ran a hand through his hair. Seducing his partner was not on his to-do list. He sighed. His hormones were telling him that it needed to be.

* * *

Kaoru stared at the man before him, before she narrowed her eyes. She knew those features, she knew who he was. And he expected her to do so, too. "You do realize this entire apartment is rigged, right?"

He smiled dangerously. "Right now they are seeing a one-minute loop on their cameras. To them, you are still sleeping. There is no audio."

Her brows disappeared under her bangs. To have that kind of hack into Yukishiro's systems... this man had way more leverage than he had let on. "What do you want with me?" She hissed.

He canted his head to the side. "Your help."

"Oh really? Showing up in the middle of the night and assaulting me sure is setting a _great_ first impression, Battousai," She growled, and much to her dismay he laughed softly.

"Sorry." He did not sound it.

She made a disgruntled noise and wiggled under his hold again. He let go of her, backing up. He was not much taller than her, dressed in all black with long red hair pulled back into a braid. His bangs messily covered his face. His eyes flickered down then back up, "Would you like to put on clothes?"

Spitting a vulgarity, Kaoru stepped into the bathroom and yanked the bathrobe off the hook and wrapped it around her, glaring at him. "Now what exactly do you want me to do? I am not at liberty to just take off and abandon my post."

"I know." He trotted after her as she returned to the main part of her apartment. She took a seat on the edge of her bed, crossing shapely legs. He would have been a liar if he said he did not appreciate the scene. "I can use you against Yukishiro."

The set of her jaw suggested she did not like his words. "Interesting. I think you might could use my _help_ against Yukishiro, but you cannot use _me. _Got it?"

The rumble in his voice as he replied suggested he was laughing at her. "Yes, ma'am."

She pinned him with a look, "Now what is it you think I can do for you? You have already proven to have very capable resources."

He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "You will be close to him. I can use that to my advantage."

"Do you not have the means to kill him as you are? You practically flaunted your cleverness last week."

"I cannot kill him yet. It would be... detrimental to things. Soon, though. And you can help me do it."

She arched a brow at him and he nodded. "You have three cameras in this apartment. The first angles here, catching the front door and the kitchen. The second looks down the hall to the bathroom and your bed. The last one covers the living area." He paused and then stood, moving across the room. "Your blind spots are limited." He paused, glancing in the little hallway. "Your bathroom and closet are safe." He glanced back at her. "Not much else."

She nodded slowly, watching him as he moved back across the floor. "Everything is tapped, too." She caught the phone he tossed to her. "I will only use that in two scenarios. The first is that you are not being watched and I can freely communicate to you. That will not happen often, knowing how he works."

He watched her quietly. "The other will be if your life is in grave danger, and you need to get out."

Kaoru glanced down at the phone and then back up at him. "Doesn't sound like much opportunity for communication," She murmured softly.

He tilted his head before walking up to her and holding his hand out. "Take off your robe."

She looked as if she bit into a sour lemon, and he arched a brow. "I am not," She hissed.

"Take off your robe. If you do not, they are going to realize something is up when the cameras go live."

She paused at this, before sighing irritably and pulling the fabric from her body, thrust it into his hand. He walked off to replace the material, calling out to her, "Lie down."

Kaoru did not like how he had taken to ordering her around, but found herself complying anyway, albeit with much frustration.

He returned a moment later and watched her quietly before moving to stand beside her bed. Reaching out, his callused fingers caught her wrist, and she stiffened. He ignored her, moving her hand to a different angle. "You were like this when you were asleep. Shift your hips to the left. Good."

She sighed, and he let go of her, eyes meeting hers. "Two minutes, then the cameras will be live. I will return soon. Until then, stay alive."

_'Easier said than done,' _Kaoru thought bitterly. She watched him drop the phone he had given her into purse before she closed her eyes and listened to him leave.

Things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

_-Phoe-chan_


End file.
